


Sensuality

by Michevalier



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, I swear, M/M, Non-Explicit, Post-Canon, Respectfulshipping, Revspec, Slice of Life, They're perfect to me lol, bdsm relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michevalier/pseuds/Michevalier
Summary: Just a vacation. Just another night and eternity for the two whose co-existence must be the most natural and harmonic essense in the world.





	Sensuality

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is an AU post-canon where these two dorks are a few years older lmao

One can hardly appreciate the beauty of a tropical night without plunging into its bottomless depth. Kogami Ryoken was enjoying it. Quiet. Only the sea rustled, swayed, shared its taste with the air, lived.

He approaced almost imperceptibly, just like a ghost, and, having gently put the glasses on the table, dropped to his knees.

“Sorry for the delay, there were a lot of people in the bar,” he said quietly.

Ryoken was looking deep into the night. There was the sea and the sky merging together. There were many, many suns far and near, long-lived and recently dead. Their light flickered in the mirrors of the waves, multiplied.

Spectre did not know the word "I want."

Once Ryoken asked about his desires.

“So that you felt good,” he replied.

Certainly, confidently, naturally.

His knees on the dark sand.

Ryoken smiled, remembering how he stopped at the bed linen shop recently.

Saleswoman was helpfully telling something:

"...is called "graphite", a very noble color... looks very expensive and rich..."

Ryoken did not care. Ryoken almost did not listen.

He was already imagining Spectre on these sheets.

_As you wish. So as you order._

_So that you feel good._

He was Ryoken's true wealth.

Alabaster smooth hair.

Because of the wind this hair was a complete mess, but Ryoken liked it.

Spectre humbly lowered his head.

“No,” Ryoken objected, “look at me.”

Obedience. Always unconditionally.

Light skin, light eyes. So much light inside of him.

Ryoken touched his face. Spectre immediately pressed his lips to his master's hand.

He did not know the word "thank you."

Once Ryoken tried to understand.

Returning to reality, he looked uncertainly, inquiringly. He uttered the standard-sweet words. He praised, said that he was worthy and obedient.

Spectre only babbled quietly: "Happy to serve."

Once Ryoken ordered:

"Ask."

"Do you... do you feel good with me?" almost despair and... hope.

“ _Oh, what an idiot,_ ” yes, that was what Ryoken thought about himself. Everything was so simple, how could he not notice?

Ryoken hugged Spectre and said sincerely:

"I always feel good with you. I am very pleased with you."

Spectre finally exhaled:

"Thank you."

Ryoken learned of a couple of good places on this coast so that he and Spectre could go there from time to time. Hotel beach, crowded, noisy during the day, did not attract them. And now the artificial river and a strip of greenery hid them from prying eyes, fenced off from bright lights.

“Stand up,” Ryoken said. "Let's go to."

A few steps and warm water embraced their feet. Ryoken pulled Spectre into embrace as he snuggled behind him.

"Do you hear this beauty? Water... it unites us with its unlimited power. Water..." young Kogami looked up at the sky and, smiling, added, "what an element."

“Yes, our element,” Spectre whispered, snuggling closer to his master.

He would never utter the "stop-word".

Did he remember it? Now it sounded funny. Now Ryoken felt as if Spectre was literally a part of himself.

But once, long time ago, Ryoken watched, studied.

And then he finally realized that Spectre would not stop him with either words or gestures, even if they would cross the line. Ryoken asked why.

“Because then... then... after all, you would not... would not feel good,” he whispered in disbelief.

"Oh my Goodness! Yes, if you feel bad, I will feel bad as well, so..!" this was the first time Ryoken shouted at him.

Spectre, clinging to his master's legs, begged, promised:

"What? What?! How? Order it! Everything, I will do everything! I beg you, do not be angry! I beg you..."

Ryoken tried to explain that power is responsibility. That his goodwill was, of course, a wonderful thing, but no one canceled the common sense, let alone security. Ryoken would not forgive himself if he involuntarily hurt him. And Spectre did not understand. He considered himself responsible for his master's mood, his pleasure.

But Ryoken had found the way. The two of them studied each other. Was Spectre worried about his master's "good"? Fine. Ryoken would stop when he would stop understanding Spectre. Ryoken would say that he did not feel him, that he was not comfortable. Spectre in return would try to describe his feelings.

Owning them was the ultimate responsibility.

To own it was undeniable happiness.

Water caressed their feet. Enveloped, hugged tight, retreated, leaving the moisture of its kisses on their skin.

Water had tremendous power and at the same time was unique in its flexibility.

Ryoken turned Spectre to face him. He habitually lowered his head. Ryoken stopped it, his fingers touched his chin. Spectre looked into his eyes. Now their color could be compared to the color of the sky of a sunny day. His eyes "could" change color, only slightly, of course, shades reflected his feelings all too well. They were bright blue when he felt particularly well. He felt it, he wanted to kiss his master's hand, but Ryoken found a different use for his lips.

It was just a look at first. Spectre adored when Ryoken looked at him like that. But still it was difficult to determine which of them was more fascinated by this kind of tenderness. Ryoken bent down, touched Spectre's lips with the tip of his nose, pull away a little, inhaled. And closer again. Young Kogami touched them with his lips ever so slightly, at the level of "almost." He closed his eyes, he no longer needed vision. Touch. Light, faint tickling on his nerves. Then he deepened the kiss, very slowly, carefully and... thoroughly. Then Ryoken need taste. Spectre trembled, but would not dare to move, respond, rush his master... his lover. Ryoken had the full power over him, he had all the rights and priveleges to kiss those soft puffy lips and he enjoyed it without a haste. But this was not enough. More, deeper, stronger, faster. Spectre's quiet moan finally delighted the ear, trembled, merged with taste, smell...

Drowning in their feelings, the two forgot about time.

"Cocktails,” Ryoken recalled.

“Yes, the ice will melt,” Spectre responded.

Young Kogami lied down on a lounge, his aide settled next to him on the sand. They talked about something, drank slowly, lazily.

Spectre slipped his hands over his master's skin whereas Ryoken found the pleasure in touching his hair.

"Let's go to the room?" Ryoken asked.

“As you wish,” Spectre replied.

But Ryoken's question was not an order. He smiled, hinted, waited. And Spectre whispered shyly:

“Maybe... will you let me please you here?”

"Yes," Ryoken answered, "but we will not swim later."

He laughed, remembering the first night.

In fact, it was the third one here, but the first night was the one of their arrival. In the long road they could not sleep, and, having kindly refused to dine, only had enough power to rinse in the shower and walk to the bed. In the morning they almost slept through the breakfast and were about to order it to their room, but then decided to go for a walk after all. They rode along the coast, walked and in the evening they quickly fell asleep again. They got up early the next day, but, instead of thoroughly doing nothing in bed, they felt the urge to wander around the hotel. Then the two had breakfast and went to the beach. They realized that it was not suitable for sunbathing and swimming with such a crowd around, so they went to a quiet, almost deserted piece of the coast. They stayed there for a long time. No, Ryoken took care of Spectre's fair skin, smeared it everywhere, even under swimming trunks, albeit carefully. There weren't any prying eyes around, and yet it was too much of a risk to get too "busy".

Spectre purred in pleasure and pretended to wonder:

"Do you want me to not burn down there? But the sun is not capable of dealing much harm under the clothes... Or should I take them off?"

"Don't you dare!" Ryoken hissed.

Spectre laughed, Ryoken choked with laughter as well, making himself look formidable, but without really trying hard.

The two of them were rolling, splashing, going for a swim to see "who is faster." In the end Spectre still ended up burned here and there, so Ryoken took him to the hotel. At lunch, the two had a nice drink and then they got completely light-headed. Ryoken had to put the “blushing maiden" aka Spectre on the bed, but failed to “have a proper rest" himself as he simply collapsed, falling asleep near his boyfriend's sleeping face.

Closer to the night, rested and well fed, they came to the sea. Assessing the benefits of the beach at this time of day, the two succumbed to the romance of freedom and almost lost control. With the remnants of the common sense Ryoken managed to remember with a kind word the habit of always taking some lube with him and... the entire universe ceased to matter when Spectre ended up underneath him.

As a result, the lounge was broken, guilty only of being accidentally caught into the whirlpool of their passion. Naturally, the lovers failed to escape without abrasions, not to mention hickeys and minor scratches. Then they picked up the miraculously survived clothes, but, before they got dressed, they decided to go for a swim. The sea water had a revenge for the unfortunate beach furniture. It seemed that all the fresh wounds were simultaneously burned with iodine. That was when Ryoken and Spectre decided to evacuate from the sea and move to a room with fresh water and ointments. Ryoken promised himself to be more careful in the field, more precisely, sandy-beach conditions, but he remembered this juicy kind of pain. Who knows? It might come in handy someday...

Spectre said that now they should be more careful with the property of the hotel. Ryoken answered that it was more important to him to protect _him_.

 _His_ property.

Spectre gave himself to his master wholeheartedly, unconditionally, lovingly. He was grateful for what Ryoken would take, for what he would desire.

His, Ryoken-sama, for him.

Belong to Ryoken. This was Spectre's freedom.

Time was confused with the power of touch, smell and taste. Vision, having quenched its thirst, gave the priority to other senses. Music was born on the strings of nerves.

Their cocktails made out of senses were so much better than those of fruit.

And love? Love is a word that everyone understands in their own way.

For them, this was a familiar feeling. One of the six.


End file.
